


The Tuckborough Affair

by ElderberryWine



Series: 221B Bag End [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Genre: M/M, Part of the 221B Bag End series.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-28
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElderberryWine/pseuds/ElderberryWine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mysterious doings at the Great Smials prompt Baggins and Gamgee to make a visit just as they are coming to terms with the changes at Bag End.  Second story in the <i>221B Bag End</i> series, and a warning for shameless filching from two of Doyle's best stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Our arrival back at Bag End, after those fateful events in Frogmorton, has always been rather vague in my memories. I suppose it was the loss of blood, as well as the lengthy walk, that conspired to leave that evening a lost cause as far as my recollections of the matter went. Baggins has told me that I fainted on the doorstep, which I find rather mortifying, but unfortunately undeniably true. He then dragged me, or so I am told, to his bedroom, where he promptly put me to bed. Mrs. Rumble was then informed that I had been grievously, albeit not critically, wounded, and had been placed in his room as the bed there was more comfortable, and he could thus keep a close eye on my tenuous recovery. Baggins must have been his customary persuasive self, for suffice it to say that this was my bed from this point forward, and Mrs. Rumble never, to my knowledge, brought the matter up again.

I do remember awaking briefly that night, in the dark, and feeling disoriented. But upon whispering Frodo's name, I immediately felt strong arms enclose me in a loving embrace, and a tender voice breathe my name in my ear, and I immediately drifted off again into oblivion, feeling secure and protected.

The next morning I awoke to find myself alone in bed. It took several moments to acquaint myself with the fact of exactly whose bedroom I was in. The conclusion to that question was the cause of a sudden overwhelming rush of joy, and I was most grateful for the chance to quietly weep a few private tears of happiness. It still seemed, I could not deny, like some impossible dream come inexplicably true, and there was no hurt that I ever could have regretted, if it led to such an outcome as this.

I was just endeavoring to push myself into a sitting position when, with a courteous rapid knock on the door, Baggins himself entered. There was no hesitation in his manner as he hurried to my side, sitting on the bed beside me with an uncharacteristically radiant smile, and clasping my hand tightly in both of his. My tears were not entirely dried, I must admit, a fact that he kindly overlooked, but his own eyes were, perhaps, a trifle too bright as well. "Are you up for a bit of breakfast, my dear Gamgee? Oh, I suppose perhaps it ought to be my dear Samwise?"

"Call me what you will, Frodo, dear." I had to laugh at his expression. "It is a bit of a muddle, isn't it? But a delicious one."

"Entirely so," he murmured, his eyes shining with a wicked delight, and I suddenly found myself most willingly caught up in a fervent embrace, and his mouth quite emphatically on mine.

But eventually I had to catch my breath and broke reluctantly away, falling back onto the pillow. "You must forgive me, my dear," I smiled an apology, lifting a hand to cup his cheek and marveling once again that I could do so. "I'll be right as rain in a day or two, but I'm afraid I'm just the least bit wobbly still. Probably should have gone with the carriage."

Immediately, he was all solicitude. "Well, that's not to be wondered at, when it's been very nearly a day since you've eaten," he made an attempt to frown at me, but rather spoiling the effect by jumping up to fluff the pillow behind me, and drawing a small table to the side of the bed. "Mrs. Rumble has been working her customary magic, purely on your behalf, and there are far more scones and muffins and buns than I believe I've ever seen gathered in one location before in my life. She will be devastated if you do not apply yourself to them with utmost vigor."

"Oh, now, we certainly can't be having that," I replied with a chuckle, and indeed, the thought of her culinary prowess made my empty stomach give a pronounced growl of anticipation.

Baggins gave his distinctive bark of laughter at the interruption, and gave a wink. "Say no more, old chap, I will be back no time at all," and promptly vanished. But I must admit that it was not the thought of Mrs. Rumble's muffins, be they ever so light, which left me with the most perfectly ridiculous grin on my face.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

A brief nap after second breakfast had me feeling very much my old self again so, finding Baggins not about when I awoke, I carefully got up and wrapped a robe about myself. It was his, but it was too chilly to wander down the hall to my old room to search out my own, or so I told myself. The truth of the matter was that it faintly smelled of its owner, a scent of woodsmoke combined with that infernally strong pipeweed that he enjoyed so, and the idea that I could take a liberty such as this was absolutely intoxicating.

I had plans for a warm bath, a spot of luncheon in the study, and a leisurely afternoon for the both of us to be spent in bed, acquainting ourselves with our new situation, but all these plans involved a party who was not currently present. So I decided to initiate them by wobbling my way down the hall and into the study, where Baggins sat at his desk, engrossed in something he was writing. Hearing me at the door, for I suppose I am not particularly stealthy even under the best of circumstances, he glanced up at me with a delighted smile and sprang to his feet, hurrying to my side. But no sooner had he done so when there came the sound of a visitor registering his presence at Bag End with a flurry of blows upon the round front door.

I gave a rueful chuckle at his exasperated sigh even as I felt his arms wrap around me in a warm embrace. "There's no denying that din, I'm afraid, or Mrs. Rumble will be here to unnecessarily announce that someone is at the door," he muttered in my ear. "Don't worry; I'll put them off somehow."

But unluckily enough as it turned out, my plans were destined for immediate alteration by the unexpected and certainly in my case, entirely unwelcome person of the visitor, that young scamp Peregrin Took. He was, in some disconnected sort of way, a cousin of Baggins, not to mention also being the young heir to the fortunes of the great Tooks of Tuckborough. Peregrin, or as he was more commonly named by young and old, gentlehobbit or not, Pippin Took, arrived at Bag End late that frosty morning on a handsome pony full of mettle and vigor. At least the pony was, that is, not young Pip. Pip was instead full, as usual, of higgledy-piggledy notions, and topsy-turvy ideas, and warm affectionate hugs, and the overweening hunger of a young hobbit stripling just entering his tweens. All in all, the type of visitor who tended to arrive unannounced, stay a good while, and involve his host in all sorts of unlikely predicaments. As a general rule, I enjoyed visits from young Pip, for the lad was undeniably entertaining and invigorating. Unfortunately, on this particular occasion, I had invigorating ideas myself, along quite a different vein, and young Pip's presence was going to restrict them, I was afraid, remarkably.

We had made our way somewhat hastily down the hall where Baggins, who appeared to my discerning eye to have the same sort of reservations as I, manfully thrust them aside for the moment in greeting the newcomer, and gave a wry smile to his young cousin as he greeted him in the entryway. "At odds with your sisters again, Pip?" he asked, with a trace of sympathy in his voice. "Looking for sanctuary?"

"Frodo, old chap," Pip responded merrily, giving Baggins another affectionate squeeze. "When am I ever not at odds with them? If that was all it was, I'd make my home permanently with the both of you in no time at all." But just as Baggins' hospitable smile started to freeze in terror, Pip went on.

"No, actually I've been sent by my father. A bit of bother going on back home, and he wants your keen eye and overpowering intellect put to use on it. Oh, and I say, there's old Gamgee," he added, spotting me behind Baggins in the hallway. "Not quite dressed, and after noon? What, are you ill?"

"Something far more enthralling than that," Baggins smoothly regained the young hobbit's attention, giving me a quick meaningful glance. "Weren't you on your way to a bath or something of the sort, Gamgee? I'll fill in Pip here with the particulars, but you really ought to be getting a bit more rest, you know. It wouldn't do at all to overtax your energies right now. Something tells me I might be needing your invaluable assistance all too soon."

Recognizing the opportunity for escape from the rambunctious young hobbit, for truth to tell, the mere thought of the young Took was exhausting in my present state, I quickly nodded, and made my way back down the hall, Pip's excited voice still ringing in my ears as he impetuously questioned his cousin. Let Baggins handle the young scamp, I thought to myself with relief. Unbelievably enough, the only thing more enticing to me at the moment, aside from a lovely warm soak, was the thought of another nap, wrapped in the down coverlets of Bag End's master bedroom. And with any luck at all, its owner would manage to make his way there as well, quite soon.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

It seemed to be, by the slant of the light, late afternoon when I next cracked my eyes open. Collecting my thoughts with a bit of difficulty, I determined once again my location as being Bag End's master bedroom, as well as the fact that I was absolutely famished. Getting plenty of rest was all very well and good, I decided groggily, as I attempted to push myself up into a sitting position, but it certainly made a pronounced dent in any sort of normal meal schedule. However, it wasn't until I started to stir about that I realized that I wasn't alone in the bed. Frodo Baggins was stretched out on top of the coverlet next to me, propped up on pillows, book in hand, as if there was no better place to catch up with his reading than next to my slumbering form.

"Well, there you are," he commented good-naturedly, with a warm smile, reaching out to give my clumsy self a helping hand. "Here I manage to get Pip out of the smial for a bit, only to come back to find you having a lie-down once again."

"They do say nothing quite works as well as sleep to heal one, but this is getting rather ridiculous," I grumbled at my weakness, with an apologetic smile. "Feel like quite a fauntling. But did you say that you had managed to get rid of Pip for the moment?" I added, belatedly seizing upon the salient point.

"That I did," he laughed. "Pointed out that we were totally out of ale, not even a mugful to be had. And you know he dislikes wine, so it seems as though a quick trip into Hobbiton was in order. But with that fine pony of his, I don't expect it to be a lengthy one."

"Excellent," I happily responded, catching his hand up with mine. "Although there is another barrel in the far corner, you know."

"I'm quite sure I had forgotten the barrel that stands behind the vegetable bin," he responded blandly, a distinct twinkle in his eye as he returned my clasp. "Surely I can't be expected to remember all the odds and ends in the larder."

"How very devious, Baggins! I never would have suspected that of you," I had to laugh but caught my breath sharply at the painful tug at my healing side.

"I would not be surprised if there are many things we do not know about each other," he smiled briefly, but the smile faded as he gave me a questioning look. "How is it, Gamgee? Let me examine it for you."

"That probably would not be a bad idea," I responded, still a bit self-conscious as I attempted to draw up the nightshirt I was still wearing. "Such an infernally awkward location, I must say."

"Very nearly healed over, no sign of redness," he commented in a professional manner, as he disappeared from my view with his hand on my shoulder, holding the shirt up "However, I must warn you that Pip has been most suitably awed by your injury. I suspect he's most taken with the idea of the impressive scar that will be left."

"Impressive, do you think? Not that I will ever be able to view it myself," I complained lightly.

"It is not you who needs to see it," I heard his voice soften, and the touch of his hand on my shoulder became unmistakably tender. "Indeed, it is I who need to be reminded of how very nearly I allowed that which I treasure most to be taken from me by my carelessness and haste. For I should have told you all that I knew, my dearest Sam, and trusted to your bravery. If you had known everything, you would still not have shrunk from the task, and it was ridiculous of me to have thought otherwise. I hope you forgive me that momentary lack of confidence, my dear."

"Oh, Frodo, I can forgive anything that has given me the courage to do this," I cried out impetuously, seizing the hand on my shoulder and drawing it to my mouth to kiss.

"Ah, my own beloved Sam," I heard him whisper, his voice cracking with emotion. Then his mouth found the back of my neck, and I closed my eyes, sighing blissfully.

But our moment of peace was over, for with a pronounced bang of the front door and a cheery cry of "What ho!" it was obvious that Pip Took had returned to Bag End.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

Dinner had been neatly polished off, and for once, Pippin had been outmatched, for I was truly ravenous. But Mrs. Rumble had been forewarned, and there was plenty of dinner to go around. By the time we retired to the study for the customary post-prandial pipe and spot of brandy (or in the young Took's case, mug of ale), every corner had been quite satisfactorily filled, and I was far more disposed to listen benevolently to Pippin's tale. He had already gone through it with Baggins, apparently, but Frodo insisted that I be provided a full accounting for, as he mentioned rather sternly, he would not consider taking the matter under consideration without my involvement and participation. Pippin had no compunction, however, in completely filling me in on the affair, since he now viewed me, to my bemusement and may I confess, my gratification, as quite the hero and valiant companion of his beloved cousin.

"It's the ponies, you see," he began, leaning forward and cradling his mug in both hands. "You know how father is about them, Frodo," he added, with a nod in his direction, and I understood the importance of the matter at once. The Took stable was renown throughout the Shire, and it was an absolutely unquestioned fact that Paladin Took loved his ponies very nearly as well as his own children. "He loves to race them, and it's true he bets on them, but you know it doesn't really matter all that much to him how it turns out in the end. It's a bit of fun for him, and nothing more. But it's what's been happening to them as of late that has him all in a commotion."

"The last three ponies that he was to race," he continued, his young face suddenly quite serious, "have come up lame the day they were to run. Not just pulled up short, mind you, but seriously injured. They have been deliberately hurt, somehow, and yet we cannot think of how it could have happened. There was no sign of a break-in, and the stable manager and the stable lads saw no sign of anything amiss. Yet, come morning, there's another pony limping about, with blood on his fetlock. Dad's furious, and I'm not much less, I don't mind telling you. Whatever the motive is, there's never any call for hurting these beautiful animals. I can't tell you how grateful we would be if you, Frodo, and Gamgee, you as well, could help us capture this villain."

Baggins leaned back in his comfortable chair, taking a deep draught on his pipe. "You say there is no sign of a break-in," he murmured, the glint of his eyes enhanced by the light of the fire. "How long has the stable staff been with you?"

"Well, Toliver, the head groom, has been about since I was a small lad," Pippin frowned. "The two stable lads are somewhat newer to the job, to be sure, but have still been with us a few years. It's hard to imagine that any of them could be involved in something this underhanded."

"Hmm," Baggins nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose there's nothing much that can be determined at this time. Very well, then, Pippin, as soon as Gamgee is able to travel, we shall journey to the Great Smials, and attempted to unravel this matter. You'd best leave tomorrow then and advise your father that we shall be there shortly."

"Very well," Pippin answered with a bit of disappointment, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. "I was rather hoping you could come back with me, but I entirely understand." He turned to me then with an irresistible curiosity. "Frodo says that you will have quite a scar," he blurted out. "Could I see?"

"Pippin!" Baggins exclaimed, very nearly mortified, but I couldn't help laughing.

"Sounds most dramatic, doesn't it?" I gave him a conspiring wink. "As soon as it turns into a scar, I will be most happy to reveal it to you."

Pippin giggled in delight, and was soon after escorted to his room by his still somewhat severe cousin. His room was fortunately on the far side of the hallway from the master bedroom of Bag End.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

There was a brisk breeze that night, and the clouds scudded quickly past the nearly full moon, covering the light and then letting it shine silver once again. In that fitful illumination, Baggins' characteristically pale face took on a marble gleam that was totally at odds with the warmth of it under my hesitant hand. It was completely impossible to touch him like this, and not feel the thrill of our new situation, our altered relationship. It had made more sense, somehow, in the cabin by the Water, when I lay at first in a haze of pain, and Baggins took to distracting me with conversation. Under those circumstances, our new-found attachment developed as if in a dream, utterly unrelated to our previous life. And I cannot help admitting that I was just the least bit fearful that when we returned to Bag End and our prior existence, that somehow it would all disappear like a once told and then forgotten story, a faint memory of lost happiness. And yet it did not.

He was in my embrace once again, and I felt his hands stroking me hungrily, his ravenous mouth on mine. It was not just at my initiative, no, not at all. We were, the both of us, entirely equal in our passion and caught up in our desire to touch, taste and ultimately know each other, in the most intimate of details. How many years had we lived side-by-side, and yet there was so much more to discover, such as the way he gasped, head flung back, in moments of ecstasy; the helpless moan I could draw from him with a properly applied lingering kiss; and the words of love that made me cry out in return, and vow eternal devotion as I gave him everything and anything and promised him, from the depths of my heart, to be forever his, in whatever way he wished me to be.

Long into the night we made love, and it was when at last, as the dying flames of the firelight flickered out, and the cool dark blue of dawn had begun to appear, that I caught a glimpse of his tender smile as he gathered me into his arms to sleep at last, and realized that I had seen that very same quick smile so many times before, and suddenly knew, with complete certainty, that he had loved me for a great many years. With a blissful murmur, I caught his hands up to my mouth once more, kissing them gratefully, and fell nearly immediately into deep and peaceful sleep, encircled in a love that I had never realized had always been mine even before.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

In a couple of days, we set off under a brilliant blue sky to Tuckborough. I had spent those days in completing my recuperation, and was beginning to get a bit fidgety about being trapped indoors. Not that being indoors did not have its great charms, especially these days I hasten to add, but I have always been the sort of hobbit who likes to spend a good deal of time tramping about. That was one of the allures of the medical life, actually, since going on call normally involved a goodly bit of walking through the countryside. Baggins, on the other hand, could burrow himself away in his hole of a study for days on end, hardly even remembering to take his meals. But that was the Baggins of a month ago.

It seemed to me, in my current blissful state, that there had been something freed in him, as if he had opened up windows within himself somehow, and had let the fresh light of a crisp autumn day in. It wasn't so much as he was a different person, but that he was more of himself, in a way, letting me see facets of his heart and mind that had been there all along, but that he had kept carefully guarded from all others, even me. All I knew, as we shut the door of Bag End behind us that day and took to the road, was that there was no one in all the world I'd rather be with, and whatever roads my life might lead me down, I would never forget how utterly happy I was that day, setting foot on the road with my hand tightly entwined with that of Frodo Baggins.

The cart had been debated, but I felt strongly that the jouncing and bouncing was not worth the saved effort on my part, and far preferred to get about on my own two feet, even if it meant traveling at a slower pace. Baggins had no inclination to disagree with me, adding, with a fond smile, that the matter of the Took ponies was curiously intriguing, but that my preferences were entirely more significant. I felt compelled to remind him that it might be a matter of days before we reached Tuckborough at this leisurely rate, but he insisted that those would be days, in his opinion, very well spent, and succeeded in wordlessly convincing me of his conviction upon the subject. In a word, it is a wonder we finally left Bag End at all, and it was high noon by the time we reached Hobbiton.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

Three days later, under a cloudy and windswept sky, we reached the Great Smials where we were eagerly, and somewhat impatiently, greeted by Tooks young and old. Although I had, once or twice, accompanied Baggins to Brandy Hall, in Buckland, where he had lived as a young lad, I had never been to Tuckborough before. Of course, I was familiar with the tales surrounding the place. The Tooks were perhaps the oldest Shire family, and certainly one of the, if not the, most wealthy. I could never quite reconcile the scampish Pippin Took, who came to call at Bag End on occasion, with his illustrious heritage and future position in Shire society, but here was his father, Paladin Took, looking for all the world like an only somewhat aged version of his son, shaking Baggins' hand and then mine with every bit as much enthusiasm as his son would have shown.

" 'Tis good to have you here, at last, Baggins, for I don't mind admitting that this matter has me perplexed and bothered, more so than I've been in many a day. But now that you're here, we shall have things set to right in no time, eh?" And then he turned to me with a shrewd appraising glance underneath the twinkle in his eye. "And this is your friend, Doctor Gamgee, then? My son told me you'd taken a nasty hurt the other day. I do hope the journey here was not too tiresome."

"Not at all," I assured him, continuing to shake his hand just a trifle nervously, I'm afraid. "I apologize for holding Baggins up, however, since I understand the case has a certain urgency to it."

"Gamgee's assistance is, I have found, quite invaluable to me," Baggins smoothly interjected, with a polite smile, "and will help me bring the case to a quick conclusion, I assure you."

Fortunately, Pippin had now appeared, and was bounding about his cousin with the limitless energy and enthusiasm of a tween. "It's been forever since you've been this way, Frodo, and I have so much to show you! Let's stuff those bags in the hole and be off!"

"Son, Baggins and his friend might rather get off their feet for a bit and have some refreshment first," Paladin interrupted with a fond smile. "They have just walked all the way from Hobbiton, you know."

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Uncle Paladin," Baggins replied quickly, with a swift side-glance in my direction. "These autumn winds do nip so, don't you find? And perhaps you can fill me in on the details of the case."

"Always a hobbit of business, aren't you, Baggins?" Paladin laughed, shaking his head. "You don't change much, I must say. Very well, lads, come on in to the hall, and let us put up our feet near the fire."

With an impatient curiosity to see the interior of the fabled smial, as well as being most grateful to accept that hospitable offer, I smiled consolingly at the slightly disappointed Pippin, and followed Baggins and Paladin Took through the ornately carved great door.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

It was the spaciousness of the burrow that took my breath away from the moment we entered, those vast halls the like I'd never seen before anywhere else. These great chambers must have been dug into the looming hill that held the Great Smials over the period of hundreds of years. Even the heavy beams that presumably held up the roof (they vanished into the darkness above us, so I'm not entirely sure where they ended nor their task) were elaborately carved but darkened with the years and so old they appeared to have become petrified. The front room, into which Paladin Took had led us, had one long wall that held a series of round windows, facing out over the incline that led down into the fertile Took Valley. It was a lush, verdant sight even at this time of the year, with rows of poplars holding still to their gold leaves, and occasional small forests of dark pine and dusky brown oak and scarlet maple interspersed throughout the dark brown and golden fields. Lovely as this sight was, however, I gave it only a passing glance, for the room itself was indeed remarkable.

Rather than the cozy roundish rooms of most smials, this room was very nearly a vast hall, by size, but had been carefully constructed to have all sorts of inviting corners, and enticing nooks, and homely little alcoves with small fireplaces and hearths at every turn, and comfortable stuffed armchairs and padded settles, gathered companionably here and there, seemingly without number. In addition, there were bookcases everywhere with all sorts of interesting tomes, small tables placed in just the right spot to set down a cup of tea, and colorful warm laprugs and shawls and pillows everywhere, brightening every corner and presenting the most appealing argument possible to have a bit of a sit-down and sink into the welcoming luxury all about one. The room seemed to be designed, in a word, to accommodate the greatest number of hobbits, in which to do what they wished, in the most comfortable way possible.

And it did seem to be being utilized in precisely that way, for there were, as far as I could see at first glance, very nearly a couple score inhabitants of the room, fair lasses and some not quite so young chatting and giggling as they worked on handwork and sipped tea, gentlehobbits laughing and joking in small groups as they stood in front of a crackling fire, their pipes leisurely spiraling up smoke, and even the occasional peacefully reading, or possibly dozing, hobbit by a fire, feet propped up on a fat tussock.

Showing us to a corner that was clearly his own particular realm, and offering us a pair of appealingly over-stuffed chairs, Paladin Took left us for the moment alone with Pippin, who immediately made himself comfortable on a footstool, and grinned with delight at my obviously dazed expression. "Well, what do you think, Gamgee?" he chuckled. "A bit different, isn't it?"

"Truly amazing," I responded honestly, with an incredulous shake of my head. "Are all these other guests here for some particular occasion?"

"Oh, that lot?" Pippin gave an indifferent shrug. "No, they're just Tooks, you know."

"The Took family is rather large," Baggins pointed out, with a sympathetic smile towards me. "And unlike most of the large Shire families, they tend to prefer to live together, rather than in separate smials. Ever since this warren was dug, quite awhile ago, there has always been room here for them all. A rather practical arrangement, in many ways, and one that was more necessary when they were the first hobbit settlement in these parts."

Pippin gave a small sigh as he gazed about. "It's fine enough, I suppose, but I love your smial so much, Frodo. So comfortable and just big enough for one. Oh, and of course, for you, too, Gamgee. But this is more or less going to be mine someday, so I suppose I don't have much to say on the matter."

There was a softening in Baggins' expression as he glanced at his cousin's face, and I suddenly had an inkling as to why he put up with Pippin's occasional unexpected visits and impetuous behavior, but what he was going to say was lost as Paladin returned to us, followed by three beaming housemaids bearing trays laden with tea and all manner of delicacies. Pippin brightened up considerably at this, and I must admit I did as well, since the journey here, although I would never have admitted the fact to Baggins, had been quite wearying.

There was a short interlude of relative silence then, as we applied ourselves to tea, bread-and-butter, fat dark grapes and gold-streaked apples, a fine wheel of sharp cheese, and all manner of cakes and buns. It did not take long for Baggins to satisfy himself, and with a ceremonial clearing of his throat, he leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands together in his customary pose. "The ponies, then," he nodded to Paladin. "Tell me what you know."

"Oh, aye," Paladin washed down the last corner of a raisin studded bun with a final swallow of tea, and settled back into his armchair. "The ponies. Well, it's been going on for a couple of months now, ever since the races at Summer's Mart, isn't that right, Pip?"

"Yes, that's right," Pippin answered a trifle thickly, behind an especially large apple. Swallowing, and with a quick lick of his fingers, he continued on. "It was Firefly, that time, right, Da? The dark brown smallish one-year old, with the black mane. She was right as rain up until the morning of the meet, and then there was blood on her back hoof, and she came up limping. No one could see where she had been hurt, but she obviously was."

"She came around after a month or two," Paladin nodded, "but she'll never be a racer again. That was it, for awhile, and we just put it down to some sort of unlucky accident. Until the Harvest meet."

"I see," Baggins murmured, his eyes betraying his keen interest in this puzzle. "What happened then?"

"Well, the very same thing, actually," frowned Paladin. "But this time to three of the ponies. Morning before, likewise. As coincidences go, this one was a little hard to stomach."

"Same method?" Baggins queried, leaning forward. "No obvious sign of injury?"

"Only the smallest bit of blood on the hooves, and the limping. But it was certain enough they wouldn't be racing that day, likewise. And now we're only a week off from the last meet this year. I'd not like to see any more animals hurt, but I'd also like to catch out the villain who has been doing this."

"Indeed. Tell me, Uncle Paladin, and I do hate to intrude into your personal affairs here, but it is essential that I have all the facts, do you yourself bet on these races?"

"Certainly. Gives a bit of sport to the whole affair. But the bets aren't the point of it, and are normally for something insignificant, such as a bushel of Old Toby, or a brace of bottles of Old Winyard. And since the ponies end up not racing at all, I neither win nor lose on it."

"You don't have bets committed in advance of the race, then?"

"On occasion, but no hobbit of quality would insist upon it when the pony has met up with a bit of bad luck. Wouldn't be sporting at all."

"And how about others?" Baggins asked thoughtfully, tapping his fingers lightly together as he spoke. "Do you have a notion as to the stakes others may have on these races?"

"Can't say as I've really ever paid it much mind." Paladin glanced thoughtfully at his son. "You've any idea, Pip?"

"I've heard tell there are those who bet heavily on the ponies – Lotho Sackville-Baggins, the Sandyford brothers, you know, that sort," Pippin answered without hesitation and then gave a small start as he remembered the connections of the first-named. "No insult intended, Frodo."

"None taken, trust me," Baggins answered with a wry smile. "I can certainly see a motive, from what you have just mentioned. The means, however, is still not clear. Pip says that the stable staff has been with you quite awhile?" he turned again toward Paladin, questioningly.

"Well, of course, that was the first thing I thought of when it seemed more likely that this was no accident." Paladin's brow knit darkly, and he leaned forward with his chin in his hands. "Stands to reason that one of them is mixed up in this, somehow. Yet the stable manager, Tolliver, has been here since he was a very young lad. And the other two, Nub and Bills, at least a couple of years. Never had a spot of trouble up until now, and it just doesn't seem right to be casting doubt their way. And yet, there it is."

"Very well, then," Baggins stood up abruptly. "I would like to have a word with them, but it would never do to have them guess why I am here. Perhaps Pippin could casually show Gamgee and I about the stable. They might remember me, but we can put it out that Gamgee here is in the market for a fine racing pony."

As I rose to follow, I could not help feeling a bit of apprehension. I hardly knew one end of the creature from the other, but then Frodo gave me a quick private smile over his shoulder as we followed Pippin Took from the hall, and I was suddenly determined to improvise to the very best of my ability.


	2. Chapter 2

The stables were as massive and ancient as had been the smials, and it was abundantly clear that the ponies were indeed a passion with the Tooks. No pony could have ever asked for better, for each individual stall was spacious and immaculate, with just enough fresh straw laid about and a deep trough filled with clear water. I had noticed riding tracks, as we came in, where a pony could be exercised and a large field, brown at this time of the year, where they could be given an occasional run. The central barn that held the stalls was connected to the hill in the back, and I quickly noticed that there seemed to be a hallway dug back into the hill at one end. Presumably, the stable staff had their own quarters back there. A great stone-covered fireplace, near the entrance, kept the building comfortably warm, and the entire place was redolent with the aroma of wood, smoke, and pony. Oddly enough, I noticed other animals there as well, and I had to ask Pippin about that.

"Oh, well, of course," he laughed, reaching down to stroke a marmalade cat that had somehow instantly appeared exactly at patting level. "Yes, and hello to you, Miss Ginger," he added, patting the cat fondly as it thrust its tail up high and began to purr in a loud rumbling manner. "The cats are to keep down the rats and mice, needless to say, and the goats are to give the ponies a bit of company. They are fonder of them than each other; I have no idea why," he confided with a grin. "Just like some hobbits I know. And the geese, of course," he added, as a small flock came rushing over to us, giving preliminary honks, "are soon to be dinner. Well, at least a few of them. Nearly Yule, you know. But they have their other uses, as well. Not much gets by Old Tom," he added, eying the enormous goose at the head of the pack with a certain admiration. "He's too tough for dinner, fortunately. He's quite a character. But do watch your fingers around him, Gamgee."

"Indeed," I eyed the beast with respect. My father kept geese as well, and I knew a prime specimen when I saw one.

Tolliver had come forward, by this time, to see what all the fuss was about. He was an elderly hobbit, with a weathered, sun-darkened face and, as it was soon apparent, somewhat of a crusty nature. "Aye, then, Master Pippin, what's all the pother about?" he asked querulously, leaning heavily on a hay-rake. "An' who'd these fine gentle-hobbits be?"

"My cousin out Hobbiton way, Mr. Baggins," Pip inclined his head toward us, "and his friend Mr. Gamgee. They've come to have a bit of a look at the ponies. Mr. Gamgee is possibly interested in purchasing one."

" 'Tis that so?" Tolliver suddenly sent a piercing glance my way, and I fervently hoped he had no further questions regarding the matter. My utter ignorance along those lines would be no secret from him, I was immediately sure.

But Baggins quickly stepped in to my aid, and started asking various knowledgeable questions about the ponies, along with Pippin's assistance. Tolliver said no more to me, but I could sense his keen eye on me yet. As we conversed, however, Baggins kept roaming about the stable, and I noticed his sharp scrutiny of the premises and its employees, which included the two stable lads in one of the far stalls, forking hay and casting curious glances our way. His glance fell at last on some tools left on a stool, and a small pile of wood shavings beneath.

"A bit of whittlin'," Tolliver responded, when questioned about it. "Summat of a hobby of mine. But let me call the lads, now. They could tell you summat more about the ponies, if you like. I've other business t'be takin' care of, if I might be so bold, Master Pippin."

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry we disturbed you, Tolliver," Pippin immediately responded, and the two stable lads, coming to join us with alacrity, proved happy enough to answer any query Baggins or Pippin could think of on my behalf, as I maintained an aloof silence, regarding the animals with what I could only hope appeared to be a penetrating gaze.

After a few more moments of this, however, Baggins gave me a nearly imperceptible nod, and we started back to the Great Smials. But as we were just about out the heavy barn door, Baggins turned to one of the lads, who had been following us, and casually mentioned, "Heard you had a bit of trouble with the ponies before the last meet. Any idea what happened to them?"

"No, Master Baggins," the lad's honest face clouded over at the mention. "Not a bit on it. They were fine enough the night before, and then come morning, well, there 'twas."

"No disturbances about the place, then?" Baggins reached in his pocket for his pipe and thoughtfully tapped it against the heavy weather-stained wood of the door.

"Nay, none a'tall," Nub shook his head. "Nobbut natural about it, if you be askin' me. But I'd best be getting' back to the hayin' and not stand here natterin' away," he added hastily, catching a glimpse of Tolliver out of the corner of his eye. "Good day t'you, sirs."

In the back stall, however, I had caught the gaze of the other stable lad, Bills by name. He was staring after us with the most intent expression on his face. Indeed, I might have even have said that he gave the impression of being belligerent. Catching Baggins' eye, I saw he had noticed the lad as well, and a thoughtful look stole across his face.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

The room that I had been given was as casually and comfortably luxurious as the rest of this enchanting place, and after the full dinner and several bottles of Old Winyards that I had assisted in consuming, the bed looked particularly inviting indeed. The only thing that could have made it more attractive, at this point, would have been a bit of company in it, but at this point, that prospect did not seem too likely. Our journey here had been unfortunately timed in that there seemed to be an overload of guests at every inn at which we stopped, and full beds and rooms had been the norm. And now that there was the chance of some privacy, I found that Baggins had been whisked off down some other hall, presumably to his usual room, and there was no hope of me finding him, at least this night.

So I undressed, and sat, in my nightshirt, on the quilts and feather coverlet that lay neatly arranged on the four poster bed, and stared into the red flames of the fireplace. Odd how in such an enormous warren, filled with so many other hobbits, that I could be feeling lonely, and a trifle melancholy. Brusquely telling myself that it was the wine speaking, and that I could find Baggins in the morning, I straightened my shoulders and resolved to get a good night's sleep, at any rate.

The fire died down to embers as I tucked myself into bed and let the candle by my bedside flicker a little while longer, watching the pattern of the light on the earthen ceiling above me. Somehow sleep was long in coming and the thought of who could have been beside me, and was not, was not hastening its arrival in any way. Less than a fortnight ago, that would have been a thought that never would have entered my head. No, I suppose I am not being entirely honest about that, it might have entered my head in a very vague sort of way, but certainly as no more than a wistfully implausible dream.

But before the candle guttered completely out, there was a soft rap on the door, and Baggins himself quickly entered my room, to my great delight and relief. I suppose that was obvious by my expression, since Baggins gave a quiet bark of a laugh, as he silently shut the door behind him and rapidly crossed the room to my side. "Forgive me, my dear Samwise, for not coming sooner," he chuckled as he wrapped me up in a warm embrace. "I've a bit of a reputation for being up and about at all sorts of odd hours, but I still thought it best to wait until traffic had died down a bit out there. I've never seen such a place for hobbits being up and about until all hours of the night."

"No matter, no matter at all, as long as you're here now," I exclaimed in relief as I sat up in bed and began tugging off his jacket. "You can explain it all to me later. All those nights in the inns were extremely trying, you know."

"Decidedly," he murmured, assisting my efforts with dexterity and considerable haste. "As you say, discussions can wait." With a last flourish, my nightshirt was off as well, and our hands, and mouths, were immediately upon each other, and for a good while after that, his touches and caresses were all I knew, or cared to know. Finally, exhausted and sated, we fell asleep wrapped together in the manner that had so quickly become, to both of us, natural and secure.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

I was startled awake, in the early morning hours, by a polite knock on the door. Baggins stirred next to me, and with great presence of mind, pulled the coverlets over his head. The maid crept in, laying the first breakfast tray upon the table, and left quickly, but not before giving a curious look in my direction. She must have had a companion on the rounds with her for, once out in the hallway again, I heard her give a giggle and mutter, "Aye, 'tis a fast worker, that 'un. And not a wonder, neither, for he's certainly a handsome…" but the rest of the complement was lost as they continued down the hall.

Baggins gave a sleepy chuckle, and murmured, "Entirely my fault, my dear. Must remember to lock the door tomorrow night. Leaving it open's the signal breakfast is wanted, you know. Well, it will be at least an hour before she returns. I believe we still have a few days to yet account for."

He slipped from my room just before she returned for the tray.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

Pippin joined us at second breakfast, eager to join in the investigation once again, but both he, and I for that matter, were to be disappointed. Baggins announced that he must leave us, this morning, to travel in to Michel Delving in order to look into certain questions he had on this affair, and that I and Pippin were to stay here. Sensing our disappointment, he gave us a quick apologetic smile and then assured us solemnly that he had a task for us here, if we so chose. "I need you to ask the stable lad, Nub, a few more questions, but I would not like to have you do so in the presence of Tolliver and Bills. Perhaps, Pippin, you could suggest to Gamgee here that he might want to see one of the ponies run a bit, and have Nub bring him out to the track, away from the barn. Just ask him a bit more about what he saw or heard the night before the last meet. Take a care, though, and do not let the other two hear you. These waters are indeed deep, and I must urge the both of you to be very careful." His expression was entirely serious when he delivered that last warning, and he was quickly gone, leaving Pippin and I to exchange startled glances.

We did, however, as we were told. Pippin, with his singular combination of naïve easy charm and bubbling small talk, not to mention the added benefit of being the master's son, soon had drawn Nub and one of the ponies out onto the track, away from the others, and I, in the persona of the potential buyer, maintained a stoic silence, since I had no doubt that I would muck it up if I but opened my mouth. It was a blustery day, and the brightly coloured leaves flew briskly by from time to time, but we had other matters on our minds than the bite of the wind, and I have no doubt but that we both whole-heartedly wished to please Baggins upon his return.

Alas for our investigative prowess, however, for the lad had not that much to say. He admitted that it was odd, to be sure, but he had not heard anything amiss that night before the meet. Both Tolliver and Bills had been there, he was sure of it, and he had bedded down in his room just beyond the stalls, as usual, but in the morning, the ponies were hurt and he felt that dreadful about it, indeed he did.

But after a little longer, after he had put the pony through a few more of its paces, he gave us another appraising look, and then with a quick glance toward the stables, drew close to us once more. "Although I don't mind tellin' you, good sirs, that there was something queer a'goin' on that night. There was this awful bay, from the marshes beyond the hill, that near stopped my breath. The moon was full that night, y'see, and I saw this great creature on the ridge, just there. I can't imagine, noways, how it came t'hurt the ponies, for it never made it to the barn, but I know for a fact that they were that restless that night, a-stampin' and blowin', all in a fret. And who's t'blame them? I never saw the like of that creature, never before and never since, but the others, they acted as if I'd been at the ale too much for my own good, and would have none o'that. Still, I know what I seen, and I won't be forgettin' it anytime soon."

Both Pippin and I exchanged a quick glance at this tale, for certainly this was something of which Baggins should know, but with a rough shout, Tolliver beckoned Nub back to his chores, and there was no more to be asked about the matter.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

The bounteous midday meal had been completed when Pippin was pulled off by his father, presumably for an update on our investigations. I felt rather awkward, without Baggins here, and wandered off to one of the inviting nooks of the great hall. The small bookcase, tucked into the wall near a cheerful fire – and how did they keep all those fireplaces burning, I mused. Must have grown trees for that express purpose. At any rate, the bookcase held some wonderful studies of flowers, trees, and other foliage that grew naturally in the vicinity, and I settled down in the plump armchair to browse through them. Time must have gone by faster than I knew, for in the next moment, or at least it seemed to me to be so, I was blinking my eyes open again, and knew from the slant of the light through the windows on the other side of the room that I must have been asleep for some while.

There never was a place like this, for forgetting what one was about, and letting the hours slip away, I thought as I rose to go in search of Pippin again. Something about the ancient hole made time go different somehow. But Pippin was not to be found in this hall, nor the next, and I had no idea where else to look. So I retrieved my jacket, and a scarf as well, for winter was decidedly close at hand, and wandered out of the smial and in the direction of the stables.

I had no intention of going into them, for I felt there was no more to be learned there, but I was curious about Nub's strange tale of what he had seen, or thought he had seen, the night of the crime. What sort of beast might it have been? And what could the connection have been with what had happened to the ponies, since it came nowhere near the stalls? It was a curious matter, indeed, and I wished to have a few more facts, if at all possible, before I told Baggins what we had heard.

The ground beyond the stables sloped away from the hill that held the Great Smials, and as I followed what appeared to be a semi-obscure trail away from the stable, I noticed that the ground beyond seemed to fall into pits and ridges. It was still green, unusually so for this time of the year, but with a damp, unwholesome look about it. There was an odd smell in the air as well, that of decay and mould. My path had vanished into the dank weeds, and I debated going back to fetch Pippin. He could certainly tell me more, but on the other hand, I had no idea where he was. Impatience won out, for Baggins could be returning at any time, so I searched for anything that looked like stable footing.

There was a squelch to the ground, as I continued on, and I became so engrossed with my footing that I failed to look about me. So I was completely startled by a rough shout, and the appearance of a very tall shaggy and roughly-clad hobbit, who appeared on the ridge above me.

"Who'd be you, and what business is it o'yourn t'be here?" he demanded gruffly, standing silhouetted in the grey light with a heavy cudgel in his hands.

"I'm Samwise Gamgee," I called back, immediately deciding that confused politeness was my best approach. "I'm a guest at the Great Smials, and I was out for a bit of a stroll. Got myself quite lost, I'm afraid. Would you mind pointing me back in the right direction?"

He stood silent for a moment, and it seemed to me I detected the rustle behind him of some sort of creature moving about. But with one quick glance behind him, he seemed to make up his mind.

"That ridge," he muttered, pointing behind me. "Follow that, and you'd be back. Watch your neck, though. These parts are treacherous t'those as don't knows 'em, and I've no time t'be dandlin' every fool who sets foot here, be they gentle-hobbit or no."

I must say the inclination to teach him a thing or two about manners nearly overcame my prudence, and he seemed to notice, for he gave a rough laugh, and called out, nearly jeeringly, "Ah, now you'd be thinkin' you could give a fair account of yourself, but it ain't like that, here. Nay, not a'tall. G'on w'ye, or I'll give you cause to hasten your footsteps. There's things here the likes you ain't seen before, I'd wager."

It was the sun gleaming red on the horizon that brought me to my senses. Daylight would be fading fast, and to try to make my way out of this morass in darkness would be folly indeed. So I bit my tongue, and made my way back in the direction that had been pointed out to me.

As I reached the safety of the last ridge, I turned back to look at where I had been, but my erstwhile guide had vanished. Disgruntled, I picked my way through the loose rocks and shale towards the Took stables, which I could now see, in the fading light, not too far away, and nearly did not notice the elderly hobbit, wrapped in a begrimed traveling cape, who trudged up to me from a side path.

"Late to be out on such a chill day, good sir," he piped up amiably, in a cracked voice. "Much nicer by the fireside, I'd warrant."

"Oh, come off it, Baggins," I growled, for I was still in a foul mood. "Certainly you don't think you're going to be able to fool me any longer."

The stranger laughed in delight and immediately gained three inches of height. "I suppose not, and it certainly feels good to straighten up. So I assume my play-acting days are gone, at least when it comes to you, Gamgee."

"You forget, my dearest Baggins, that I am a student of the hobbit form, being a doctor, you know," I couldn't help a wry smile in his direction, and feeling my irritation beginning to seep away in his welcome presence. "And I have made an extremely careful study of yours, in particular."

He gave his happy characteristic bark, and we managed to find a good hour to ourselves, to further pursue the subject, before it was necessary to appear at tea.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;/

 

The air in the room was chill when I awoke the next morning, and I stretched out my hand in disappointment, for the prior co-occupant of the bed was no longer there. That was before the sharp aroma of pipeweed hit me and I sat straight up in bed, with not a little dismay. "Smoking already this morning, Frodo? It can't be good for you, you know."

"Sharpens the intellect," Frodo muttered dismissively, waving the pipe through the air. He was seated on the settle across the room, wrapped in his robe, and his feet propped up on a footstool. A small fire was already burning beyond the hearth, and a breakfast tray was on the table.

He caught my alarmed glance at breakfast, and chuckled quietly. "Picked it up outside the door," he explained, leaning over to pour both of us a cup of tea. "I did remember to lock it last night, you know. Care for a cup?"

I accepted the offer gratefully, but gave him a careful look as I took the cup from his hand. "And how long have you been awake?" I asked, somewhat severely. "It's quite chilly this morning, and you are not that warmly dressed."

"Then it's fortunate I thought to at least bring the robe along, last night," the corner of his mouth quirked up as he settled back with his own cup. "I was putting the final pieces into place, so to speak, but I didn't want to leave you quite yet."

"A justifiable excuse, if I ever heard one." I could not help the ridiculous grin that spread across my face at his words, and his own smile widened as he set the cup back down and stood up.

"But now the affair is solved," he announced, flinging off his robe to my great delight. "How long do you think it will take us to get back to Bag End? Do you still want to travel on foot?"

"Three days by foot," I opened up the coverlet to allow him in. "Or a day by cart. No, I believe I am quite well enough to stand the latter. Three days is entirely too long to wait to find ourselves back at Bag End again."

"Most logical," he murmured, rolling me unresistingly to my back. "The cart it is, then."

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

The meeting had been arranged to take place in the stables. Baggins had assembled together Paladin and Pippin Took, myself, and the three stable employees. I had asked him if perhaps the local constable should be there as well, but he dismissed the thought. "The Tooks have always arranged matters their own way, and as you'll soon see, my dear Gamgee, that is especially the better plan in this particular case."

The ponies were behind us in their stalls, quietly stamping about a bit and chewing on their morning ration of dried oats as our small party gathered by the barn door. The air in the barn was yet quite chill, as the fire had just been lit in the rough-hewn stone fireplace, and all three of the stable employees were well wrapped in jackets and thick woolen scarves, and Bills had a rather grimy woolen cap pulled low on his forehead as well. Pippin waited quietly next to his father, uncharacteristically withdrawn and obviously uncomfortable, yet his eyes betrayed his nervous excitement. Paladin Took stood, arms impassively crossed over his chest, in the middle of the straw-strewn central hall of the barn, and I had a sudden glimpse into the sure and ancient power he wielded with such deceptively graceful ease. He was indeed, in that moment, The Took, and I was heartily glad it was not I who had to face his displeasure.

Baggins with, I must admit, a certain love of the dramatic, took out his pipe and tapped it against the boulders of the fireplace. "Two of you," he mentioned in a nearly conversational manner, his gaze fixed on his pipe, "know quite well what happened here the night before the last meet. One of you was the culprit but, in truth, I do not believe him to be the greatest villain here. However, that is a matter for the Thain to decide."

To my astonishment, it was Tolliver who gave a convulsive gasp, and stepped forward, with tears beginning to fall down his cragged visage. "Aye, 'twas I as hurt them, Master Took," he gulped, his hands rigid next to his sides. "But they're just like me own fauntlings, you must believe me. 'Twas only t'save them from worse, that I did as I did."

Bills suddenly spit contemptuously on the barn floor. "Ye ould idiot!" he cried out. "Couldna keep your foolish mouth shut, now, could ye?" And before any of us could react, he sprang over the nearest stall railing and was out the door.

"After him, lads, he cannot get away!" Baggins shouted, his face alight with excitement, and Pippin, Nub, and I immediately followed him in pursuit of the culprit, leaving Tolliver with Paladin Took.

We followed the stable lad down the rocky slope behind the stables and I knew instantly where he was headed. What chance would we stand in the maze of bog and marsh, though, to someone who obviously knew it well? But I had not reckoned on Pippin. It was instantly apparent that he, too, knew his way through the labyrinth of rock and fen, and Baggins, Nub, and I followed his lead.

But just as I was beginning to lose my breath, and the still-healing cut in my side started to painfully remind me that I was not in peak condition, Pippin stopped short on a rocky ledge, looking down below him.

There was a fetid pool, dark with muck and rotted leaves, on the other side of the ridge, and when I reached the others at the top, I realized that the chase was over. On the top of the pool, for a brief moment more, floated Bills' cap. And then it sank below the mire as well.

"He did not throw it this way to mislead us?" Baggins asked quietly, his arm wrapping around his cousin.

Pippin shook his head, and swallowed in distress. "I saw him fall in," he whispered, and Baggins tightened his clasp slightly around Pippin's slight shoulders.

When we reached the stable again, it was clear that the Thain and Tolliver had discussed the matter thoroughly, and had come to a conclusion. "Tolliver stays," Paladin announced quietly to the rest of us, in a voice that made it clear that there would be no questions on the decision. "Nub, I expect you to continue to help him out, and I will see to finding another lad to help as well. Perhaps you have some suggestions, Pippin?"

Tolliver said nothing, but the look on his weathered, still wet face, was one of immense gratitude as he gave his master a tentative glance. Pippin and his father began to discuss Took family matters, then, and Baggins and I took the opportunity to excuse ourselves.

To my surprise, Baggins headed away from the smial as we left the barn. A fine dusting of snow was beginning to fall, and the air was frosty, but he showed no inclination to find shelter indoors. I followed him, and knew that this was not the time to ask for particulars on the case. He would tell me those, if ever, in his own time and in his own way. But there was something on his mind as he stared to the distant hills, hardly visible in the white cottony mist. "There's an east wind coming, Gamgee."

I looked at him in surprise. "I think not, Baggins. The snow generally comes from the north."

He gave me a glance, his eyes warm, but then turned back, his sharp features chilled and reddened, his keen sight still on the horizon. "My dearest Gamgee. You are one fixed point in this world, at any rate. But there's a wind coming from the east all the same, such a wind as never blew on the Shire yet. It will be cold and bitter, Gamgee, and a great many things may change before it's finished blowing. But with the help of our Lady, a cleaner, better, and brighter Shire will lay in the sunshine when the storm has cleared."

I supposed I looked puzzled, for the corner of his mouth quirked up, and he added, "I suppose I should explain that. But for the moment, I believe the first matter to be considered is how soon we can make arrangements for that cart."

I found that an immensely appealing proposition, and we made our way quickly back to the Great Smials.

 

&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;&amp;

 

It was very late when we finally rode up the road to Bag End, and Mrs. Rumble had already gone to bed. It was not at all difficult to persuade her to let us fix ourselves a quick morsel to eat, and she ambled sleepily back to her quarters, on the far side of the smial, with a rather confused greeting and a mutter about it not being the proper time at all for waking a body up. The bite to eat was hasty indeed, for both of us had the same destination in mind, and for the same reason, and were soon there.

Afterward, I rose to light a fire, for the room had gone unused for several days and was quite frigid. Baggins watched me by the light of the candle lit on our bed stand, and, while I was preoccupied with stacking the wood just so, murmured, "You're quite good about things, you know, Samwise."

"Well, I suppose I've prepared many a fire in my life," I responded, not looking around. "It's a matter of making proper room for the flames to start, no more than that."

"Actually, you're quite adept at a great many things," his voice was definitely amused now, and I looked behind me with some surprise. "But I was expressing myself badly. What I meant is that you are so very good about not pressing me with unnecessary questions."

"Ah." I turned back and completed my task, endeavoring to hide the smile on my face. "There's no point in me trying to follow your line of thinking, ever, so I must wait for you to explain it, if ever, when you feel like doing so."

"Knowing I won't be able to resist it," he gave a warm chuckle. "You've rather made a study of me, Sam, haven't you?"

Well, that was a fact, and there was no doubt about it. So I climbed quickly back into the bed, joining him under the coverlet, and admitted as much. "Indeed, Frodo, I've made a study of you far longer than you'll ever know. But go on, my dear, enlighten me. What led you to suspect one of the stable employees in the first place?"

"The curious incident of the goose in the night-time."

"The goose did nothing in the night-time."

"Indeed. That was the curious incident."

"Hmm," I remarked, the facts suddenly falling into place. "And why Tolliver, in particular?"

"His choice of knife for whittling. Extremely sharp, not the sort of thing one generally whittles with, or there would be a good many more four-fingered whittlers about."

"It's hard to imagine that he would have hurt the ponies, for he certainly seemed to dote upon them," I mused, curling up to him a little closer. "And why did Paladin keep him on, do you think?"

"Because, exactly as he said, he did it to keep them from being worse hurt. None of the ponies were permanently maimed, they were just superficially wounded. Enough to take them out of the race, but not enough to having a lasting effect. If Bills had been let do it, I doubt if they would have been anywhere near so fortunate."

That was indisputable. I had seen the ugly look on the stable hand's face. "But why all of this in the first place, Frodo?"

"A bet gone bad," Baggins explained, adjusting himself more comfortably next to me. "It was to only be once, and I suppose Tolliver was too ashamed to say anything about it to Paladin, but once it happened the first time, it was a matter of blackmail from then on."

"Was it just Bills' idea?" I asked, thinking about the hobbit I had seen out in the marshes.

"By no means. There were others behind this, and they had more in mind than just betting on a few Shire races," Baggins' face suddenly grew dark. "It's another part of that other matter we were involved in, Samwise. The extent to which Lotho's deviltry has grown, and has brought the evil influence of those from without the Shire is only beginning to reveal itself, I'm afraid. There were men from the east involved, the same sort of villains that had a hand in the pipeweed smuggling. A few of them were living in the marshlands, along with their brute of a dog."

"Oh, was that what Nub saw?" I exclaimed, suddenly remembering his wild tale.

Baggins gave a wry smile. "That's what I was investigating the afternoon I met you there. Yes, they had painted the poor beast with some sort of lurid paint, and had set him upon the ridge that night, in order to catch Nub's eye. He never saw what was going on behind his back. And if I'm not entirely mistaken, Gamgee, I do believe you were considering sparring with the good citizen you met out there."

"Ah. Well, he did have a rather insulting manner about him," I mentioned, slightly embarrassed that he had seen that incident.

"And you are an impetuous sort," Baggins' voice deepened slightly, and I felt his hands seize my wrists, as I rolled towards him.

"I suspect you need an impetuous influence in your life, my dearest Frodo, and it is entirely my pleasure to provide that to you." I could now feel his long frame stretch deliciously out under mine, and found his eager mouth in exactly the right spot.

"I plan on holding you to that, Sam, for a very long time," he breathed, as we broke apart only momentarily.

"Not long enough," I murmured, reaching out and snuffing out the candle at the bed side. "Not unless it's for the rest of our lives."

His tender sigh of, "It is," reached my joyful heart just before his mouth found mine once again.


End file.
